


Down to Suck

by MalMuses



Series: Bat Dean 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Timestamp, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anxious Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Catus Interruptus, Creature Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Crack, Love Confessions, M/M, Miggles the Cat - Freeform, Vampire Dean Winchester, bat dean, brushy brushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 03:23:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/pseuds/MalMuses
Summary: Castiel and his vampire boyfriend Dean have been together for a couple of months, and Castiel is very happy with their relationship. But there is a little something else he'd like to add to their dynamic...and he has a sneaky, fluffy plan to get his way.A timestamp in the Bat Dean 'Verse.





	Down to Suck

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers!
> 
> I knew I wouldn't be able to resist coming back to this fic for timestamps! I just had too much fun creating and writing Bat Dean and his anxious-yet-sassy boyfriend. So, here I am again, back with a little peek of their relationship a couple of months down the line.
> 
> I had said that if people gave me bat prompts on tumblr, FB, or discord I would save them up and try and work them into the timestamps. This is the first one of those! The prompt can be found [here!](https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/69521228_2701779043166747_8323192134798671872_o.jpg?_nc_cat=109&_nc_oc=AQmd2yAh9BvssomthrP7a9TEcZK3IUZFL-Lf0l6--Czt7oeZ8Qv_18UPoaerRO8Qs_o&_nc_ht=scontent-atl3-1.xx&oh=a57a0d003f86ec2ed0a4e27f0e1d3e13&oe=5E148002)
> 
> Big thanks to [waywardjenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardjenn), as well as Jen, and Lisa! All mistakes are my own :)
> 
> \- Mal <3

The weather was starting to get sticky, the kind of hot that leaked through skin and made breathing feel damp. Castiel hated it. A bead of sweat worked its way down his temple as he rested his hip on the doorframe of his apartment, juggling two large grocery bags in one arm as he fought with his key. The entrance to the shitty apartment hadn’t been maintained in living memory, Castiel was certain, and the peeling paint of the door frame flaked unhelpfully, leaving specks of off-white like dirty dandruff on his _ Heavenly Bodies _uniform. 

Having finally battled his way inside, Castiel dumped the heavy brown bags on the kitchen counter nearby, and kicked the door shut. He reached into the top of the first bag, pulling out the mail he’d grabbed on the way through the lobby, and flicked reluctantly through it as he shoved groceries into the cabinets with his spare hand. Bills, mostly, and the odd piece of junk or credit card applications. Castiel snorted at those, and shoved them in the trash can without opening them. Credit was a thing other people had, not college grads who washed dishes and looked wistfully up at the poverty line like it was a bar to aim for, a first step. Things had been better, though, since he’d started working for Dean. 

He’d been a bit awkward about it, once they’d finally both started dealing with their issues and began dating. Sleeping with the boss felt weird, even though Dean never really treated him like an employee anyway. In Dean’s eyes, he just threw his piles of crumpled receipts in his boyfriend’s vague direction once a week, and somehow all three of his businesses kept running. Dean paid him well, too; much better than _ Heavenly Bodies _ did, though he’d be working two jobs for a while yet, unless Dean could somehow double his hours, which Castiel knew he couldn’t. 

But at least, Castiel considered with a smile, he now didn’t dread simple things like swiping his card at the register in the grocery store. Or at least not as much. He’d learned the hard way, a couple of weeks after his and Dean’s first date, that Dean was incredibly determined that Castiel wouldn’t live on ramen. Of course, Castiel was far too proud to accept any financial help from Dean other than his salary—a fact he didn’t particularly feel was a personal flaw, either. But he’d come home several times to suspiciously full kitchen cabinets, and a much tidier apartment—Dean didn’t complain at Castiel’s messiness, thank goodness, but he certainly didn’t sit by and let it happen.

Castiel’s logic had always been, “Why keep putting that thing in the cabinet if I’m going to take it out again tomorrow?”, to which Dean had nodded an understanding, “Yes, dear,” then immediately put it away again.

Thinking fondly of his boyfriend, Castiel smiled goofily at his groceries as they disappeared into the cabinets, the oppressive heat all but forgotten. He didn’t have any other relationships to compare it to, but Castiel was pretty sure that his with Dean was going fairly well. They practically lived in each others pockets, despite only being officially together a couple of months. Going more than a day without seeing each other just seemed to make them both sad, so why do it, they reasoned. Most nights Dean arrived at Castiel’s apartment just after sundown, and then they rode to work together the next morning. Dean’s house on the Singer lot was much nicer, bigger, tidier, and better maintained.... but they had the advantage of being alone at Castiel’s crappy apartment. Sam and Castiel got on very well, but he still didn’t think Sam needed to hear the noises Dean made while Castiel experimented and discovered what he liked sexually. Judging by Sam’s traumatized early-morning expressions on occasion, Sam agreed. 

Reaching the bottom of the second and final grocery bag, Castiel pulled out the last thing he’d purchased with a small, sly grin. He took it over to the coffee table and left it there, innocuous. Dean was going to love it, Castiel knew with sure certainty, but he’d probably pretend to object at first. Castiel smirked; he was looking forward to the faux-pouting, though he’d never tell Dean as much. They’d enjoy what Castiel had purchased… and then they’d talk, after. That was his plan. They’d done a lot of things together, him and Dean. But there were still things they hadn’t done, that Castiel hadn’t been ready for. But he planned for that to change.

Folding the brown paper bags down flat, Castiel shoved them into his recycling bin. Or at least on top of it. Near enough to _ in the bin _ that Dean wouldn’t feel the need to move them, at least. Once done, he grabbed the cat food and Miggles bowl, pulling it up onto the counter so that he could fill one half with fresh kibble and one half with fresh water. He didn’t need to call for the cat; they were summoned just by the sound of the bowl scraping across the tile as Castiel moved it.

“Hey, Miggles,” Castiel said, crouching down to give the cat’s fluffy back a few solid, long strokes while he lowered the bowl back into place. “How was your day?”

The cat gave a long meow and a series of small chirps, unhelpfully headbutting the bowl on it’s way down to the floor. Once it was in place, Miggles dived straight in, like Castiel was some awful fiend who never fed his pet. Which, even when he’d not been able to feed himself on occasion after college, had never been true. Miggles always got the best.

“Glad to hear it, Miggs,” Castiel said solemnly, before straightening up. “Time for me to shower work off for the day,” he decided aloud, stretching and cracking his back before he dawdled to the bathroom. 

Castiel’s showers had got significantly longer since he’d met Dean, but he didn’t have time for those shenanigans today; he’d been a long time at the store, and he had other hopes and plans. So he scrubbed himself down with his loofah quickly, sparing a minute to rake some shampoo through his helpless hair, before turning the water off. Shaking off most of the water into the tub that his shower was mounted over, Castiel smiled to himself. It was weird, he figured, for your own bathtub to be the first place you met your significant other. Not that he’d known that at the time, of course, when he’d rescued an injured bat that Miggles had dragged into the apartment. How was he supposed to know it was a vampire bat? Grinning to himself, Castiel grabbed one of his slightly threadbare white towels and began to rub himself down.

He was very glad it had been a vampire bat.

Dean was, to Castiel’s mind, the best thing that had ever happened to him. And it was about time that Dean knew that. Wrapping the towel around his waist, mostly dry, Castiel opened the bathroom door and dawdled his way back to the kitchen to get a glass of water before he went to dress.

As he pulled a clean glass down from the top cabinet, there was a tapping sound behind him. 

“It’s open!” Castiel called, not looking up at the weird scratching on the window. 

“SKREEEE!” came the loud response; a complaint, if anything.

“Is the curtain blocking the window? One sec,” Castiel said, carefully filling up his glass.

The living room window hadn’t been closed since his and Dean’s first date—it was probably a good thing that Castiel lived on the fourth floor—and Castiel did his best to make sure that the curtain was never in the way, either, but occasionally Miggles decided to wrestle with the fabric and pulled it across the panes. Other than that, the window was always cracked and unobstructed for Dean to use; all he had to do was push at the latch with his feet. 

Castiel put his glass down on the coffee table as he approached the window, his other hand holding up his towel. Oddly, it looked like the curtain was pushed back completely, the window unobstructed.

“Dean?” Castiel called out into the late evening light, inky and dark but not quite black yet. 

“SKREE!” Dean confirmed, with another scratchy-tap against the glass.

Castiel opened the latch, pushing the window wide. “You can’t get in?” he questioned, tilting his head curiously. 

His question answered itself as Dean swooped through the window, his small fuzzy body gliding smoothly on leathery wings. 

“Skree!” Dean announced, slightly smug. He hadn’t been able to operate the latch because, grasped in his clawed feet, he held a single rose. 

Castiel could already feel himself flushing as Dean dropped the rose carefully in Castiel’s usual seat, his wings outstretched as he hovered carefully above the couch. 

“Skree,” Dean said, much more softly, as he swooped across toward Castiel, landing on his already outstretched hand. 

“For me?” Castiel asked, unsure why the simplest, dumbest things could still make him blush, with Dean. 

The bat nodded, nuzzling into Castiel’s hand as he reached up to stroke at Dean’s head.

“Thank you,” Castiel said, forcing the words out shyly through his flushes. “Actually, I got you something, too.”

The bat’s head tilted, and he spread his wings, preparing to take off—to jump off Castiel’s hand and transform, no doubt, into his usual, human self.

“No! Wait!” Castiel said quickly, reaching out to gently cup his hand at Dean’s back, keeping him in his palm. “Don’t turn back just yet. This is silly, but...it’s actually something for bat-you, not you-you.”

The bat’s head tilted to the side. He gave Castiel a very suspicious squint.

“I promise it’s not mealworms.”

Dean gave out a tiny huff, his fuzzy chest puffing out for a moment as he hunched his shoulders. He’d never quite forgiven Castiel for that. 

Castiel made his way to the coffee table and gently lowered Dean down to the couch. He reached across, picking the rose up from the other seat, and brought it up to smell its soft, sweet scent. “This is lovely, Dean,” he said, past his initial awkwardness. “What’s the occasion?”

The bat’s leathery wings, tucked in to its side, jerked in a tiny shrug.

“Just because?” Castiel guessed, knowing that despite his cocky, rough persona, Dean was a bit of a romantic at heart.

Dean was silent, dipping his dark, soft little head in acknowledgement.

“That was sweet of you, Dean,” Castiel reassured, settling himself down onto the couch. “Let me show you what I got for you, and then I’ll put it in some water so it’ll last longer.” He reached over, carefully placing the beautiful, blooming rose down onto the coffee table and retrieving the small item he’d purchased earlier.

Dean watched him with unearthly green eyes, peering out from his black, furred face. 

“Don’t be mad at me,” Castiel cautioned, hiding the item behind his back childishly.

Another squint.

Castiel gave Dean a little grin, before revealing what he had in his hand.

It was a tiny, blue, soft-bristled baby brush. 

Dean squinted harder.

_ You can’t fool me, _Castiel thought, amused. 

“Come here,” Castiel said, grinning. 

Dean pouted—who knew bats could pout?—and hunched his shoulders.

“Aww,” Castiel said, his voice sing-song and teasing. “Does the little sky-puppy not want his brushy-brushy?”

“Skree!” Dean objected, pointing one wing threateningly at Castiel.

“You’re sure? It’s such a soft, nice brush, I’m pretty sure it’d feel _ super _ nice if someone were to brush you with it…” Castiel said nonchalantly. 

Dean glared.

“Such a shame.” Castiel sighed dramatically. “You’re sure?”

Already half-defeated, Dean slid one foot slowly across the couch toward Castiel, taking a tiny step.

Castiel grinned. “Does Dean want his brushy-brushy?” he teased.

There was a noise like a tiny sigh, then “Skree.” It was definitely a small, grumpy, “yes.”

“Come on then.” Castiel offered out his hand and Dean scrambled his way up into Castiel’s palm, clinging on to his thumb with one of his clawed hands. 

Raising the brush cautiously, Castiel gave an experimental sweep, trailing the bristles slowly across Dean’s head and back down between his wings. Almost instantly, Dean’s dark-as-night little body practically melted down into Castiel’s hand. Castiel smiled.

“Good?” he asked after a moment, gently repeating the motion.

Dean gave out tiny almost-purr that Castiel knew meant he was happy. Hearing that sound was enough, for Castiel. It was all he’d wanted. He stretched out on the couch, his rumpled bath towel around his waist, and placed Dean down carefully on his bare chest. Dean settled on Castiel’s sternum, his wings flopped out comically across Castiel’s ribs in an odd, batty hug as he relaxed under the attention.

They didn’t often spend much time together while Dean was in this form; only one of them being able to talk was usually a drawback, and for a while Dean had still felt odd about it, a lifetime of hiding what he was being a hard habit to break. 

But Castiel was determined that Dean should never feel ashamed.

He was what he was, and he dealt with that as best he could, but Castiel wanted Dean to know that he was loved because of, not in spite of. 

He wanted to show Dean he was loved, period.

And perhaps tell him.

Dean had never told Castiel that he was in love with him, but even so, Castiel was fairly sure that his feelings were returned. He could see it, sometimes; in Dean’s expression, in his voice, in his touch, in the little things he did. But he never said it. Why, Castiel wasn’t sure; he wondered if Dean was worried about saying it, for some reason, or if he was being patient thinking Castiel needed that, or if he just genuinely didn’t feel like he could say that; Dean could be quite emotionally constipated on occasion. The other conclusion, of course, was that this wasn’t _ that _, to Dean, and he didn’t love Castiel back, after all.

Castiel tried not to think about that option.

But, Castiel had decided that he wanted to—was ready to—have sex with Dean. Oh, they’d had sex already—plenty. Hands, mouths, fingers, tongues, toys. But Dean had never pushed him for more, for all the way, waiting patiently, again. Castiel had decided that he wanted that, though, and it felt like a good time to also clear up the L-word issue.

Castiel was done with being patient. 

Still brushing at Dean’s soft, beautiful fur, Castiel cleared his throat. “Dean?”

Sleepily, his eyes half closed, Dean raised his head from Castiel’s chest. 

Castiel moved the brush in a long, gentle sweep down Dean’s back, working the bristles carefully between his fur. “You’re beautiful like this, Dean,” Castiel said softly, running his thumb gently across the soft, tufty fur right behind Dean’s ear. He had large, twisty ears, and Castiel thought that they were adorable. “You’re always beautiful, though,” Castiel continued, even as Dean squirmed slightly at his words. “Inside and out, in every form.”

The bat ducked his head, headbutting Castiel’s sternum in a gesture of _ “C’mon, dude, shut up.” _

“Just let me say this,” Castiel said quietly.

Dean raised his head once more, his ears twitching forward, his expression almost concerned.

“I just want you to know that I like you just as much like _ this _ as I do when you’re human-shaped, Dean. Because it’s all you. And it’s _ you _, no matter how you look or what you eat, that I’ve fallen in love with.”

On Castiel’s chest, Dean froze, pulling his wings in slightly, his green eyes widening. 

“I—” Castiel flushed, unsure. “I just wanted to tell you. You don’t have to feel the same, Dean. And it’s okay if you don’t—”

All at once, in the space between a breath, the moment between microseconds that Castiel had never been able to perceive, Dean’s body changed. It stretched out, smoothed, grew larger and heavier and longer-limbed, and suddenly Dean was above Castiel; his arms caging Castiel on the couch, their legs tangled on the cushions, chest to chest.

“Cas,” Dean breathed, blinking hard. “Do you really mean that?”

Castiel frowned softly, his head tilting. “Of course I do, I wouldn’t joke about that. But it’s okay, really, if you don’t—”

“Cas,” Dean said, more severely. “Stop saying that.”

Castiel paused, his nerves in a knot in his throat that he struggled to breathe around. Dean was a warm, heavy weight, so familiar to Castiel by then that it was comforting, being pinned to the couch by the entire six feet of Dean’s freckled skin. Clothes didn’t survive Dean’s transformations; he’d started keeping spare plaid and jeans at Castiel’s apartment in their second week.

“Didn’t you work it out already?” Dean asked, much more softly. Castiel creased his brow, silently questioning, and Dean continued. “Cas, I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I just didn’t tell you because it didn’t seem fair, I’d had more time to get to know you than you had for me. I didn’t want it to feel like I was pressuring you, or manipulating you, so I kept it to myself. Let you take the lead, on everything. Because Cas—” Dean raised one hand from the couch cushion and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “—I had a crush on you before you even know who I was. In fact, technically, I’m pretty sure I knew I loved you before I met you.”

Castiel simply had to kiss the nervous expression from Dean’s face; as his hands slid up Dean’s spine to rest at his shoulder blades, Dean’s expression melted into relief, and then further, into more. Dean pulled back, his eyes shining, trailing kisses across Castiel’s cheeks.

Shifting slightly under Dean’s weight on the couch, Castiel grinned as he left a little kiss on the bolt of Dean’s jaw. “Dean, did you just quote a Savage Garden song?”

“I would never!” Dean spluttered.

Castiel smirked against Dean’s neck. “Pretty sure you did.”

“Maybe,” Dean grumbled.

Chuckling against Dean’s skin, Castiel moved his way back to Dean’s lips, one hand raising to tangle in his short, sandy hair as the other one trailed southward as they made out. Resting his hand on the base of Dean’s back, he trailed his fingers teasingly across the swell of Dean’s ass, before cupping his palm around the warm, soft globe and giving it a squeeze. He grinned against Dean’s lips.

“The fact that I love you,” Castiel said, his voice coming out huskier despite his determination to be cool about it, “is at least a small part of the reason why I’ve decided to ask you to do something for me.”

Dean pulled back immediately, serious and attentive. “What, Cas? What can I do?”

Castiel smiled slowly, his nerves disappearing as he let himself sink into the moment, catching Dean’s green eyes (just as breathtakingly _ other _ in his human form as any, Castiel now noticed with ease). He held their stare for a tantalizing moment, his breath paused, before slipping out his tongue to moisten his lips. Dean’s eyes followed the motion.

“I want you to fuck me,” Castiel said slowly, deliberately. 

Dean was entirely motionless, pushed up on his arms either side of Castiel’s chest, his ass still in Castiel’s hands as his eyes slowly widened. “I, uh.” Dean cleared his throat. “You know that you don’t have to, right? I mean, I’m okay if you never want that. Not everyone does, and that’s fine. Penetration isn’t the be-all-end-all of sex, everything we’ve been doing is still fucking, Cas. And I’m totally happy with that.”

“But you want to?” Castiel prompted, his voice coming out even lower and rumbling hopefully between them. His heart was hammering in his chest for some reason, and it only increased as Dean’s eyes darkened, his lips parting fractionally on a breath.

With a tiny gasp, Dean nodded.

Castiel leaned up, pressing their chests back together, his mouth so close to Dean’s ear that his lower lip caught and dragged on his ear lobe. “Then what are you waiting for?” he whispered. “Take me. You want it, I want it. So fuck me, Dean.”

He felt Dean gulp in the tiny space between them. “We can take it slow,” Dean began, his voice huskier than it had been even moments before.

Castiel’s stubble rubbed against Dean’s as he shook his head slightly. “Dean,” he said, low and pointed and clear. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know what you want, and you know what I want. I’m not asking you to treat me like I’ll break, Dean. I’m asking you to rail me in to the mattress until I come apart, understand?”

Dean’s breath huffed out of him shakily as he nodded frantically. “Yes. Fuck, yes,”

They pulled apart only long enough to stumble to the bedroom. Dean, already naked and half hard, teasingly pulled at the towel that still wrapped Castiel’s waist, though it was clinging on half-heartedly at best. 

“Seem a bit overdressed there, Cas.”

Castiel grinned wolfishly, stepping back from Dean deliberately. He gave Dean’s chest a playful little shove as he went, causing Dean to fall back onto the mattress with a laugh. Castiel stopped at the end of the bed, looking Dean up and down, devouring his gorgeous boyfriend with his eyes.

Dean was practically glowing, his pupils blown and his eyes wide as he gazed back, his gaze trailing across Castiel’s exposed shoulders and abs. Almost like it was an automatic reaction, Dean’s hand trailed down his stomach, wrapping around his already interested cock. “Damn, Cas,” Dean said, arousal evident in every word. “You’re so hot. And I love you so much.”

To his embarrassment, Dean’s words caught Castiel unawares, bringing about a sight flush to his neck and chest that wasn’t caused merely by his steadily increasing horniness. “And I love you,” Castiel echoed, deliberately opening his towel and slowly dropping it, releasing his bobbing dick as a distraction.

Dean’s eyes went straight to it, so it seemed to work. “Shit, Cas,” Dean murmured, his hand working himself over steadily. “Look at you.”

The towel abandoned on the floor, Castiel crawled up the bed after Dean, claiming his lips again. The feel of Dean’s strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him against his chest as they rolled together, was one of Castiel’s favorite feelings in the world. The feel of Dean’s beautiful lips—because fuck, he had perfect lips—trailing over Castiel’s own, damp and warm and needy, was a very close second.

They kissed luxuriously, bodies pressed together and rolling a hot, eager rhythm, for several minutes. It was perfect, and knowing what it was leading to, Castiel and Dean were both rock hard, their cocks sliding together, seeking any kind of pressure.

“Shit,” Dean hissed into Castiel’s ear. “Have you got—”

“Yes, of course,” Castiel interrupted, nodding. He pulled back and rolled to the side, yanking open the drawer of his cheap pine nightstand to retrieve a small bottle and a couple of condoms. He handed them to Dean as he settled himself back down on the bed.

Dean smiled down at his hand. “You went and got the thicker, silicone lube. Someone was thinking ahead.”

Castiel gave a little shrug against the pillow. “I read that it was better than the water-based kind, specifically for this, at least. I figured that I might need all the help I can get to be comfortable, especially the first time. I researched.”

Pulling Castiel back toward him with a laugh that ended up pressed into Castiel’s mouth, Dean didn’t seem able to control his wide grin. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever been a nerd about.”

“Like you’re not a nerd,” Castiel panted, pressing his head back into the pillow as Dean worked hot lips down his neck. “Fuck, Dean, your mouth is so good.”

Dean smiled into his collarbone. “Good," he said. "Because I think that’s where we’ll start. Roll over?”

As Castiel settled his forehead into the pillow, the feel of Dean’s tongue swiping down his crack wasn’t wholly unexpected—they’d done that before—but it still made his back arch involuntarily. He emitted a low hiss, the wet, warm, almost indescribable feeling of Dean’s tongue circling his rim just the right side of over stimulating. Dean ate ass like a porn star, thrusting his tongue deep and parting Castiel’s cheeks wide to get his face right in, his fantastic lips locked tight around Castiel’s fluttering hole. 

Dean kept up a furious pace, licking and pushing and stretching at Castiel’s walls with his tongue, pulling him apart with practiced ease.

“Dean!” Castiel panted into the mattress. “Thats—I’m ready, please—more!”

Castiel felt Dean pull back, missing the slick feel of his twisting tongue the second that it retreated. But he said nothing, too nervouscited about what he hoped would come next.

Despite Castiel’s eagerness to get fucked hard, Dean took his time getting them there. Castiel heard the pop of the lube cap, and pushed up on his arms so that he could peek over his shoulder.

Dean’s face was flushed, red from pressure and arousal as he worked his lubed-up fingers around Castiel’s hole, dipping them temptingly inside just to test how Castiel was feeling. For his part, Castiel was feeling good, relaxing around Dean’s fingers trustingly. Dean gazed down at Castiel opening for him with a loose jaw and shaking breaths. “Jesus, Cas,” he said, raising his eyes to catch Castiel’s. “You’re so sexy, I swear, I’m so very lucky to have you.”

“Then have me,” Castiel said, his voice dropping suggestively. 

The fingers withdrew, and there was a wet slicking sound; Castiel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, just to enjoy the audio of Dean rolling on a condom and fucking wetly into his own fist, spreading the lube from root to tip.

“Ready, Cas?” Dean asked again, just one more check.

“_Dean_,” Castiel growled. 

Rough, work-calloused hands came to Castiel’s hips, dragging him a few inches back across the mattress as Dean raised up on his knees. “Like this?” Dean asked, his voice low and shaking with hunger.

“Yes. Hard. Please, Dean,” Castiel said, his voice straddling the line between begging and commanding in a way that he hadn’t known he was capable of. “I want it, Dean. Do it. Sink into me, fuck me, pound me down into the—_ shit," _he gasped, cutting off at Dean’s first intrusion.

“God, your mouth,” Dean declared deliriously. “You’re so hot, Cas.”

Dean pushed slowly but steadily, bit by bit, giving Castiel time to breathe and adjust with every inch. His thumbs massaged small circles in the dips of Castiel’s spine. When he bottomed out, Castiel couldn’t help but let out a slightly hysterical groan; he’d never been so full in his life. He had toys, he knew what to expect. But Dean felt so hot, and thick, and…_ holy shit. _“Oh god,” Castiel whimpered. “Just—gimme a minute, please, I need—just a minute.”

Dean gave a low, filthy chuckle behind him, and Castiel felt Dean’s balls brush against his taint as he leaned over, sliding a hand up Castiel’s spine so that he could bring his head to the side of Castiel’s, pressing a kiss to his ear. “You okay, Cas? Need me to stop, to pull out some?”

“Fuck, no, no.” Castiel shook his head, shifting back against Dean. “Go on. It’s good. Almost too good.”

Castiel was glad that Dean trusted his words. He straightened back up, settling his hands firmly back at Castiel’s pelvis. “Okay, okay,” Dean crooned, before slowly slipping back out, just far enough that Castiel felt the shape of Dean’s cockhead tugging at his rim.

When he slammed back in, Castiel let out a breathless yell.

“Yeah?” Dean asked once more, flush against Castiel’s ass.

“More,” Castiel rumbled.

Dean didn’t pound fast, concentrating instead on taking Castiel hard and deep, his cock gliding over Castiel’s prostate with every slow, solid thrust.

As Dean beat his hips forward Castiel was pushed further and further down, gasping as he was—just as he’d craved—railed into the mattress. He couldn’t speak, the sensation of being fucked hard just too distracting; so he did the only thing his choked throat would allow, gasping Dean’s name over and over with every thrust.

For his part, Dean seemed wild for it, speeding up as Castiel called out to him each time he pushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves within that was driving Castiel crazy. A tight, staticy feeling was slowly building down in Castiel’s base, further back and further down than his usual orgasms came from.

_ Finally, _ Castiel thought deliriously. _ Hell yes, finally! _

Dean was attentive, his voice and his hands caressing Castiel even as he yanked him back, splitting him on his cock. “Is that good, Cas?” he rumbled, so close himself that his voice sounded smoky and deep. “You like me working you on my cock, you want this? You want to come like this?”

“Yes—fuck—” Castiel keened desperately. “YES!”

“God, Cas, I’m—I’m close, Cas, you’re so tight, so hot, I can’t…”

Castiel pushed back with everything he had, twerking himself against Dean’s stuttering body as he choked out Castiel’s name, filling the condom. In the midst of his own loud, gasping orgasm, Dean managed to get a hand around to Castiel’s front, wrapping tight around his dick and jerking him fast.

“You too, Cas, come around my cock,” Dean begged, his hips faltering as Castiel felt warmth within, even through the condom. 

The thought of Dean filling him like that, maybe without the condom if he’d be into that, was what sent Castiel over the edge.

Laying together moments later, oversensitive and breathing heavily, Castiel turned his head up from where he rested on Dean’s chest. “Well?” he said, suddenly shy. Which was ridiculous, given the amount of lube that was slowly leaking between his ass cheeks.

Dean gave him a daydreamy smile. “That was amazing. You were so good, Cas, so good.” Dean’s arms came up to squeeze Castiel tighter into his side, pressing his lips to his temple. “Thank you for deciding to give me that.”

Castiel smiled, nuzzling in closer, their sweating, messy bodies be damned. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you, too,” Dean murmured into his hair. “Even if you sneakily used a brush to get me all pliant and easy to persuade.”

“You didn’t need that much persuasion, Dean,” Castiel said, grinning widely as he doodled nonsense shapes on Dean’s chest with his finger tips.

Dean took a breath to respond; but his words were cut off before they even began by a loud, angry hiss, and then Dean’s own shriek.

“MIGGLES!” Dean screeched, removing the fourteen pounds of angry fluff from his stomach, where it had pounced heavily.

“Miggles!” Castiel chastised. The cat twisted and swiped in Dean’s hands as he wrestled with it, trying to keep its claws away from his most precious, fleshy places.

Eventually, the jealous furball was deposited in the hall, and Dean slumped against the now-closed bedroom door. “We forgot to close the door,” Dean said redundantly.

“Sorry,” Castiel managed, trying not to laugh.

“That cat hates me,” Dean said with a sigh, coming back to the bed. “How much do I have fuck you to bribe you into getting another pet?”

Castiel laughed. “Sorry Dean, Miggles was here first. We’re a package deal.” He knew that Dean was only joking; despite Miggles jealousy that Castiel had to be shared, Castiel knew that Dean was secretly very fond of the grumpy, envious cat that had unknowingly brought them together.

“You suck.” Dean grumbled, snuggling back up.

“No Dean, that’s you.”

**Author's Note:**

> There we go! Another little peek at bat Dean and Cas. There's still so much I have in mind for this 'verse, I may yet come back for more, but that's all I have for you today.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I love comments and always respond.
> 
> You can find me over on tumblr as MalMuses, if you are so inclined. If you have any batty prompts you would like to see, let me know!
> 
> \- Mal <3


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